


Fever

by bexara



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-13
Updated: 2013-04-13
Packaged: 2017-12-08 09:18:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/759709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bexara/pseuds/bexara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kagami tries to hide something from Aomine, but Aomine isn't that stupid and heads over to Kagami's apartment to confront him. Instead, he finds Kagami sick with a fever and decides to take care of him since the idiot obviously can't take care of himself. Prompt courtesy of the magnificent milky96. Hope you enjoy it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fever

There was a special hell waiting just for him. Even though he knew it, and maybe even felt a smidgen of guilt about it, Aomine really couldn’t help himself.  
  
Sprawled out before him on rumpled sheets, Kagami lay sleeping. He was sexy, beautiful, adorably tempting, all flushed and panting, his hair tousled, hard, smooth body exposed by the shorts riding low on his hips and the tank tangled high around his midsection. His skin, glistening with a light sheen of sweat, begged to be caressed and licked. Aomine found himself leaning over to do just that before his conscience, what little there was of it, stopped him.  
  
Shaking his head in an attempt clear it of entirely improper thoughts, he straightened and took a step back. It was hard pulling away, hard to shake off the desire spiraling through his blood. Due to back to back matches for both Seirin and Touou, he hadn’t even seen Kagami for almost two weeks, let alone touched him. It was like placing a magnificent feast before a starving man and then telling him he couldn’t eat it. Could anyone really blame him for almost succumbing to his baser urges?  
  
Well, Tetsu probably could, he thought with a grimace. Aomine could even hear his friend’s stern, rebuking voice.   _Aomine-kun, Kagami-kun is down with a fever. Are you such an animal that you can’t even hold back for a day or two?  
_  
Shame stirred inside him. Tetsu, or rather the imaginary Tetsu in his head, was right. Kagami was sick. This was no time to be thinking about jumping him. Reaching out, Aomine touched his forehead. It was still warm, too warm. The hand must have felt cool to Kagami’s fevered flesh because he moaned softly and turned his head into Aomine’s large palm.  
  
The worry Aomine had managed to squash resurfaced, for the moment killing the any feelings of lust, and he thought back to earlier in the day when he should have noticed something was wrong with Kagami.

***

They’d agreed to meet at their favorite outdoor court. It was tucked into the corner of a secluded park. Not many people visited the area, and the court itself was almost always free, for a reason. The concrete was fractured in several places, with weeds and grass shooting up through the cracks. The paint of the backboard was faded and peeling, and both hoops were brown with rust.  
  
Still, it was their place, their secret spot. They could go all out there without an audience, could also touch and flirt without worrying about someone seeing them (though Kagami always huffed and yelled and even threw punches when Aomine got a little too frisky).  
Aomine had arrived first, an rare occurrence. Normally Kagami was waiting for him, his red eyebrows drawn together, a frown on his lips.  _“You’re late again, Ahomine!”_  he would say gruffly.  _“Next time, I’m just gonna’ leave and you can play with yourself.”_   Of course, that never happened. Kagami was always there, always waiting for him, same adorable scowl on his face. If Aomine’s chest puffed up a little, if it swelled with affection and smugness, he wisely kept it to himself.  
  
Today, though, Aomine had rolled out of bed even before his alarm went off. He was psyched, impatient, ready to see his lover after two weeks apart, itching to push himself to the limit once more against the only man who could really stand toe to toe with him on the court. Fifteen minutes past the time they were supposed to meet up, he did start to worry a little. It wasn’t like Kagami to be late, especially not when basketball was involved. He was actually on the verge of calling Kagami when he caught a glint of bright red out of the corner of his eye.  
Turning so fast he almost tripped on his own feet, Aomine smiled as Kagami came into view. The smile morphed into a smirk once Kagami stepped onto the court.  
  
“Oi, oi, who’s the late one today, eh Kagami?”  
  
His tone was cocky, but underneath there was a note of delight he couldn’t quite contain. Damn, it was good to see Kagami. Really, really good. He had to resist the impulse to dash over and wrap his arms around the big idiot, to crush their lips together with a hot, steamy, toe curling kiss to make up for the weeks apart. No, he had to play it cool. Though the man himself didn’t know it, Kagami already had Aomine wrapped around his finger. It wouldn’t to let him know just how desperate Aomine was after only a short separation.  
  
So, Aomine stared, his dark blue eyes hungrily eating up every inch of Kagami’s body. That red hair was an incorrigible mess as always. The gaze Kagami returned to him was half lidded, slumberous, resting above sculpted cheeks that had more color than normal. Aomine, in his self-satisfied and arrogant thoughts, believed those were visible signs that Kagami was just as pleased, just as excited to see him. It wouldn’t be until later that Aomine realized Kagami was actually sick and not just jonesing to see him, too.  
  
"Sh-shut up, Ahomine." Kagami's comeback was delivered in in a low, husky drawl.  
  
Aomine shivered. Kagami's voice, normally low and deep, sounded unusually raspy, the kind of voice he had after a bout of hot, sweaty sex. The sound went straight to Aomine's dick and he had to surreptitiously adjust himself.  
  
Kagami didn't notice. He had bent down to fix his shoelaces. When he stood, he staggered. Aomine's eyes narrowed at that, but Kagami grabbed the ball Aomine had placed on the nearby bench and moved to the center of the court.  
  
"Well, what are you waiting for, dumbass?"  
  
Thinking he must have imagined that brief wobble, Aomine shook his head and jogged to where Kagami stood. His lips curled into a daring grin. Popping out his arm, he struck the ball out of Kagami's hand and began dribbling rapidly.  
  
"Gotta be quicker than that to keep up with me, Kagami," he laughed heartily, light and happy and recklessly eager. Kagami and basketball, his two favorite things in this whole world. How could it possibly get any better than this?  
  
Kagami frowned, eyebrow twitching. “Are you going to keep running your mouth or are we going to play some ball?”  
  
“Alright, but don’t regret it. I’m gonna go all out,” he smirked, face full of arrogance and aggression, and underneath it all the boyish glee he had thought gone forever.  
  
“I’d kick your ass if you didn’t,” Kagami grinned back, red eyes glittering almost feverishly.  
  
Elation pumping through his veins, Aomine wondered how he could have ever felt dead playing basketball. It was thrilling, stimulating,  _fun_. He looked into Kagami’s burning gaze and knew, it was the man in front of him who was responsible for restoring his love of the game. Even if they had never gotten to this point, never went from rivals to friends to lovers, Aomine believed he still would have never forgotten Kagami for giving him back this immeasurable joy.  
  
Ah, but he was freaking happy they  _did_  give in to the lust and heat and emotional connection between them. Aomine was at his best with Kagami. The man had changed him in more ways than one. Besides, the sex was fucking un-be-liev-able. Like knock-your-socks-off, bed-shaking, mind-blowing and soul-shattering amazing. Though always embarrassed at first, Kagami turned into a real hellcat when they got going. After they finished, the scratches on Aomine’s back and the bite marks on his neck proved it.  
  
 _Ooops_ , there he went again, thinking about things that were definitely  _not_  appropriate in the middle of the court. If he kept it up, he was going to be tenting like a porn star on Viagra, and Kagami would give him that disgusted look while calling him a perverted sicko.  
  
Switching the ball to his left hand, he crouched down. “Okay, here I go. Try to keep up”  
  
Kagami snorted and assumed a defensive position. “Bring it on.”  
  
In a flash, Aomine took off, Kagami right beside him. Their sneakered feet pounded on the concrete, and the hollow bounce of the ball echoed through the park. He made his first shot, Kagami cursing as the ball swished through the net. The red-head came down with the rebound, though, and raced down to the other end of the court, jumping from the free throw line and slamming the ball into the basket.  
It was Aomine’s turn to curse, though he eyed Kagami admiringly. He never got tired of seeing that idiot’s lane up. It really was a thing of beauty and it set the fire inside him flaming higher. Kagami landed, breathing hard, and Aomine caught the ball.  His competitive spirit kicked into overdrive. Sprinting back to his side of the court, he leaned back, the ball rolling like water off his fingertips. Kagami barely got in front of him, and though his hand grazed it, the ball still sailed right into the hoop. Everyone called it the formless shot, but Aomine just did what came naturally, and the feeling of sinking the ball in that round, netted hoop held a kind of ecstasy all of its own.  
  
“Not too shabby, huh?” he smiled smugly, pulse throbbing, muscles pleasantly burning, soul flying high like one of Kagami’s jumps.  
  
“Yeah, yeah,” Kagami waved a dismissive hand in his direction, already getting back into position, face a mask of determined concentration.  
  
They went on like that for a while, one scoring and the other taking the point back. However, somewhere in the middle, Aomine noticed a change.  Kagami began to lag behind a little, his movements sluggish and dull, like he up and decided to stop giving it his all. That totally pissed Aomine off.  
  
“Oi, Kagami, quit messing around,” he scowled when Kagami missed his second dunk.  
  
Glowering right back, Kagami grabbed the ball and tossed it at Aomine. “I’m not messing around, jackass. Just worry about yourself. I’m gonna get those points back and more, and then you’ll be left crying in defeat.”  
  
Aomine stiffened at the caustic retort, but his keen eyes watched Kagami more closely. He started to think something was wrong with Kagami, and his suspicions were confirmed a few minutes later.  
  
Kagami managed to steal the ball from him, faking to the right and then spinning swiftly to the left. Any other time, he would have been able to easily transform his momentum into a quick dash away from the defender’s reach. Not this time. His face paled and he just sort of pitched forward. Only Aomine’s quick thinking and almost supernaturally fast reflexes kept Kagami from face-planting right onto the concrete.  
  
“What’s wrong with you?” Aomine asked, concern making his tone a little harsher than he intended as he set Kagami back on his feet.  
  
Shrugging away from him, Kagami avoided his eyes and ran a hand through sweaty, red hair. “Nothing. I’m just feeling a little lightheaded. I woke up late this morning so I didn’t get to eat breakfast before I came.”  
  
“Bakagami,” Aomine bopped Kagami lightly on the head, but his eyes were still carefully observing. “It’s not like you to skip a meal.”  
  
“Yeah, you’re right,” Kagami laughed weakly. “I should probably head home and eat before I pass out.”  
  
Something didn’t add up, but Aomine couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Kagami was too open, too honest to easily get away with lying. And he  _was_  lying, though Aomine couldn’t imagine why.  
  
“I’ll go with you then. We can eat together.”  
  
Kagami blanched and shook his head. “No! Er, I don’t want to ruin your afternoon. Stay here and keep practicing. I’ll call you later, I promise.”  
  
He glanced furtively around and then leaned it, brushing his mouth fleetingly against Aomine’s. His lips were hot and dry. Aomine lifted his hands, intending to pull Kagami closer, but the red-head hastily stepped out of reach.  
  
“So, yeah, later then,” Kagami gave a wan smile and turned around.  
  
Aomine watched the other man walk away, uneasiness washing over him, unable to actually believe Kagami had just blown him off like that.  
The rest of the afternoon dragged. Aomine couldn’t think of anything else except for Kagami. It kept bugging him, the way the idiot had looked and acted. That’s why, at about six o’clock that evening, he stood outside Kagami’s apartment, knocking on the door. By god if Kagami didn’t tell him what was going on, he would wring it out of the bastard! He didn’t get an answer so he banged harder. He could hear the soft drone of the TV so he knew Kagami was home.  
  
After a third round of knocking yielded no results, he pounded furiously on the door.  
  
“Hey, I know you’re in there, Kagami. There’s something wrong and I want to know what it is. Open the damn door!” The loud, barking command reverberated thunderously through the hall.  
  
Thirty seconds passed with no answer. Livid, he drew his hand back, preparing to hammer at the door again, when Kagami’s voice drifted out to him.  
  
“There’s nothing wrong. I’m just tired. Go away. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”  
  
He stood there stunned. Go away? _Go away?!_ Aomine’s blue eyes widened in angry disbelief. Did that moron really think it would be that easy to get rid of him, especially since he had heard the raspy, nasal quality to Kagami’s voice? Hell no, he wasn’t going away!  
  
Aomine dug into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys. He’d never had cause to use them before. Kagami had given him the duplicate set “in case of an emergency.” Well, Aomine decided this situation fit the bill.  
  
It took him less than five seconds to get the door unlocked. Turning the knob, he barged inside, adding a curt “Excuse me for intruding” as an afterthought.  
  
Kagami sat on the couch, still in his shorts and tank from earlier, staring at Aomine in shock. He looked worse than before, and his sickly appearance quickly cooled Aomine’s demonic wrath.  
  
“What the hell are you doing, Aomine? I told you to  _leave_. You can’t just break into another guy’s place.”  
  
“I didn’t break in, fool, you gave me the keys.” On a mission, Aomine strode purposely forward. His hand reached out, slapping against Kagami’s forehead. His skin practically sizzled at the contact.  
  
“You’re burning up!”  
  
“I didn’t feel like turning the air condition on,” Kagami replied lamely.  
  
Was he really still going to pretend like everything was fine? Aomine noted the stubborn set to Kagami’s jaw and he knew that was exactly what the dumbass intended.  
  
“You’re sick.” The blunt diagnosis made Kagami wince.  
  
“No, I’m just feeling a little—”  
  
“Be quiet,” Aomine overrode his pathetic explanation. “Now either you are too stupid to know you are sick, or too hardheaded to admit it.”  
  
“I’m not the stupid one, you are.” Kagami struggled to his feet, scowling the whole way.  
  
Aomine glanced around the room. Kagami’s apartment was usually immaculate when he came over, just a few magazines spread out over the coffee table. Now, dirty dishes lined the counter and Kagami’s shoes and socks made a trail from the door to the sofa.  
  
Shaking his head, Aomine waved at the mess. “You couldn’t summon the energy to tidy up. You’re barely even able to stand up. Your voice sounds like a frog decided to make its home in your throat, and your skin is so hot I think I have a blister on my hand from touching it. Are you still going to stand there and tell me you aren’t sick?”  
  
Kagami looked guilty and Aomine resisted the urge to throttle him.  
  
“Go. Bed.  _Now_.” Aomine pointed a finger at Kagami’s bedroom. He could tell Kagami wanted to argue. Expression hardening, he leaned in until their noses was practically touching. “Unless you want me to carry you,  _princess_ , you will get your ass in there and get to bed.”  
  
Realizing he was serious, Kagami flushed and backed away. “Fine. But I’m not doing it because you told me to. It’s only because I’m already a little tired that I’m going.”  
  
“Tell yourself whatever will make you happy, but you have five seconds to get your butt in gear before you’re airborne.” Aomine held out his hands threateningly.  
  
Growling, Kagami turned toward his bedroom. He’d just crossed the threshold when Aomine called out, “And change your clothes first! You can’t get into bed wearing those clothes you played ball in.”  
  
“Bite me!” Kagami yelled back hoarsely.  
  
Aomine waited to make sure Kagami stayed in the bedroom and then went into the bathroom. He rooted around in the cabinets until he found the box he was looking for. Padding back into the other room, he grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen.  
  
Kagami was sitting on the bed, wrestling with his shirt as Aomine finally walked into the bedroom. Though he had gotten his shorts on okay, he’d somehow managed to put his head through the arm hole of the tank top and was cursing up a storm as he tried to untangle himself.  
Rolling his eyes, Aomine put the medicine and glass on the nightstand.  
  
“Here, let me help you.” He tugged at the cloth covering Kagami’s ear.  
  
“I can dress myself,” Kagami snapped and grabbed his fingers.  
  
Sniggering, Aomine batted Kagami’s hands away. “Oh, yeah, because you are doing  _such_  an awesome job right now.”  
  
Gripping the hem of the blue tank top, he yanked it up and over Kagami’s head.  
  
Kagami glared at him. “Ouch.”  
  
“Don’t be such a baby.” Aomine righted the shirt and pulled it back over Kagami’s head.  
  
“You’re the one treating me like a baby,” the sulking redhead mumbled as he put his arms through the correct holes.  
  
“Maybe if you knew how to take care of yourself, I wouldn’t have to.” He didn’t even try to hide the patronizing tone of his voice.  
Kagami opened his mouth, probably to complain some more, but Aomine shoved the box and glass at him.  
  
“Take that,” Aomine nodded at the medicine.  
  
“I don’t need medicine, I just need some sleep.”  
  
“I can always run to the store and get some suppositories,” the statement was uttered casually, but they both recognized it for what it was: an ultimatum.  
  
Grumbling, Kagami took the medicine, grimacing as he swallowed it. Aomine took the glass away, placing it back on the nightstand but within reach in case Kagami got thirsty later.  
  
“Alright, in you go,” he pulled the covers back and patted Kagami’s pillow.  
  
Aomine understood Kagami well enough to know another rant was coming. Not wanting to let Kagami agitate himself further, Aomine bent over and kissed him, easing him down in the process. To Aomine’s slight shame, once he started he almost didn’t stop. The fever had made Kagami’s mouth hotter, and it felt freaking incredible. His tongue slipped in, wrapping around Kagami’s and then sucking it between his own lips. Kagami’s soft moan vibrating against his mouth jerked him out of the fog of desire that had started to envelop him.  
  
 _What the hell am I doing to a sick person?_  Aomine asked himself in disgust. He  _was_  a fucking pervert.  
  
Kagami’s eyes were glazed and licked his swollen lips. “Aomine?”  
  
The throaty entreaty nearly undid Aomine.  
  
Summoning all of his willpower, he pushed Kagami’s head against the pillow. “Go to sleep, stupid.”  
  
He pulled the covers up to Kagami’s shoulders, deliberately ignoring the face the other man made at him. He started to leave, but Kagami suddenly grabbed his hand.  
  
“You, ah, you’ll still be here, right?” Kagami’s expression had turned shy, hesitant, and Aomine almost had meltdown right there. How could he be so adorable?! Though he had groused and protested and had been a general pain in the ass, it was obvious he really was glad Aomine had come over.  
  
“Y-yeah,” Aomine had to clear his throat before he could continue, “I’m staying. So hurry up and close your eyes. You’re starting to look like a sickly panda.”  
  
“You’re a jerk,” Kagami whispered, but his hand squeezed Aomine’s as his lashes fluttered shut.  
  
Aomine stood there for a long time, holding Kagami’s hand tight long after he had fallen asleep.

***

And that brought Aomine back to his current predicament. An enticing, sexy Kagami stretched out before him like a big cat waiting to have its belly rubbed. Deciding it would be prudent to remove himself from temptation, he gently drew the covers back up over Kagami and left the bedroom.  
  
The mess in the living room once more greeted his eyes. At least that was something he could take care of. Satsuki would probably laugh her pink head off if she could see him now since she always had to nag and nag at him to clean his own room. Whatever, this was different. Kagami needed him, and Aomine had never realized how great it could feel to be needed.  
  
In less than thirty minutes, he had everything spic and span. It occurred to him then that the dishes had just been cups and glasses. He hadn’t seen any plates or pans or any other signs that Kagami had actually eaten something. Aomine frowned at the thought. It couldn’t be good for Kagami to have taken that medicine on an empty stomach.  
  
Going back into the kitchen, he looked around. He could whip up something simple, at least he thought he could. Kagami did it all the time when he came over, so how hard could it really be?  
  
Pretty damn hard actually. He burned the miso soup. The rice looked like white goo. And he nearly cut his finger off trying to chop up an onion. Frustrated, he swore at the inedible dishes, as if it were somehow their fault and not his that they had turned out that way. Screw it. He’d just order some takeout. Should have done that in the first place.  
  
With nothing else to do, he slumped down onto the couch. The TV was still on. He flipped through the channels until something vaguely interesting caught his eye. About that time, a knock came at the door. He sprang toward it, wanting to get answer it before the sound woke Kagami up.  
  
It was the takeout he had ordered, and the food smelled good, causing his stomach to gurgle loudly. Aomone had forgotten he hadn’t eat much today, either, too preoccupied with thoughts of the man sleeping in the other room. He paid the delivery guy and closed the door, locking it behind him. The soup it put in the microwave for Kagami, the rest he promptly dug into.  
  
Once sated, he went back to watching TV. The apartment was otherwise quiet. Truth be told, Aomine felt a little lonely sitting there in Kagami’s living room all by himself. He wanted nothing more to strip off his clothes and crawl into bed with his lover, but he couldn’t be that selfish. Kagami needed his rest, and Aomine wouldn’t let anything disturb him.  
  
About an hour later, Aomine had found the sports channel and was watching highlights of a pro basketball game. A noise in the hall drew his attention. He turned his head to find Kagami standing there, an empty glass in his hand.  
  
“What are you doing up?” Aomine fussed at him, jumping hurriedly off the sofa.  
  
Kagami looked thoroughly mussed, clothes wrinkled and hair so messy it could give Testu’s bedhead a run for its money. Yet he was still beautiful to Aomine. He remembered once mentioning to Kise how beautiful he found Kagami. The blond had scrunched his nose and shook his head, “You’re idea of beauty is very strange, Aominecchi.” Aomine’s response had been a pithy, “Go die.”  
  
It also seemed those crimson eyes were a little clearer, and Aomine’s worry faded some.  
  
“I drank all the water and was still thirsty.” Kagami held up the glass.  
  
Aomine snatched it from him with a frown. “I could have gotten this for you. Why didn’t you call for me?”  
  
A look of defiance crossed Kagami’s pink, sleepy face. “I’m not an invalid, Aomine.”  
  
“Hmpf. Just go back to bed, I’ll bring the water to you.”  
  
At that, Kagami became mulish. “I don’t want to. I’m gonna watch TV with you.”  
  
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Aomine tried to hustle him back to the bedroom, but Kagami dug in his heels.  
  
“No. It’s my apartment and I can watch the TV if I want!” Just like a child arguing with his parents that he didn’t want to go to bed yet. He crossed his arms and wobbled over to the sofa. He didn’t sit so much as fall down on it.  
  
Knowing threats probably wouldn’t work on him now with the mood he was in, Aomine sighed and headed into the kitchen. Actually, the childish behavior was fairly cute coming from a man as big and sturdy as Kagami. Aomine hid his smile as he came back with a full glass of water and the cup of soup, which he had heated in the microwave.  
  
“Here,” he dropped down beside Kagami and passed him glass. The soup was set on the table. “I got some soup for you, too. Don’t worry, I didn’t make it. It’s take out.”  
  
Kagami drank deeply from the water. The soup he barely glanced at. “Then at least I won’t be poisoned. But I’m really not hungry right now.”  
Raising his hand to his heart, Aomine gasped in mock astonishment. “I think the world must be ending. Now  _I_  know you are sick.”  
“Shut up, Ahomine,” Kagami elbowed him in the side. He grunted obligingly, though the blow lacked its usual punch.  
  
“Seriously, though,” Aomine caught Kagami’s chin so he could look into those drowsy red eyes, “I think you should eat something. It will probably make you feel better.”  
  
Kagami stared back for moment and the nodded grudgingly. “Fine, but in a minute. Right now I just want to sit here, okay?”  
  
“Yeah, okay,” Aomine smiled, moving his hand up to cup Kagami’s cheek, “but you  _will_  eat, even if I have to hand feed you.”  
  
He got a small smile in return at that statement. A rush of love for this strong, gorgeous man washed over Aomine. He wanted to reach out, embrace Kagami, squeeze him tight and never let him go. That he had fallen so hard, so deep, so  _completely_  still surprised him sometimes. He hadn’t thought he was a person who was capable of this kind of love. Kagami had changed all that, changed him, and he was a better man for it. Why else would he, the king of selfishness, actually take care of another person?  
  
“Want to cuddle?” he asked after a moment when he got his overflowing emotions under control. Not wanting to seem to sappy, he let a lecherous leer pull the corner of his mouth up.  
  
A surprised bark of laughter burst from Kagami’s lips, thought it quickly became a coughing wheeze. Aomine soothingly rubbed his back until it was over.  _Man, I’m a total pussy_ , Aomine thought with dry amusement, but he was surprisingly okay with it.  
  
“You’re a retard, you know that?” Kagami announced once the cough subsided, but he snuggled close anyway, laying his head on Aomine’s shoulder.  
  
Ahhh, if only Kagami always acted this docile …  
  
Aomine put his arm on the back of the sofa, allowing his fingers to gently sift through Kagami’s hair.  
  
“Maybe, but what does that say about you since  _you’re_  the one dating me?”  
  
Placing his own hand on Aomine’s chest, Kagami closed his eyes. “Temporary insanity.”  
  
The hand was a warm, pleasant weight. His breath, still coming a bit too fast, puffed gently across Aomine’s neck, and the badass, egotistic, often rude basketball prodigy actually thought this contentment rolling over him must be what heaven was like.  
  
“Then I just have to make sure you never find a cure for that insanity,” Aomine laced their fingers together, still concerned about Kagami’s fever, but overall satisfied to just sit there and hold him.  
  
Later, he forced Kagami to eat, then they fell asleep together on the sofa, lulled into slumber by the quiet hum of the TV. Aomine should have made Kagami go back to bed, but with their bodies entwined and Kagami’s head resting trustingly under his chin, he simply couldn’t make himself move. Moments like this when Kagami actually relied on him, defenses down and needing to be taken care of, might not come again for a long, long time. Aomine wanted to savor the feeling for as long as he could, and the smile on his face as drifted off was one that would have embarrassed him if anyone else had seen it.  
  
Fin.  
  



End file.
